


Our Time Will Come

by weethreequarter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Chefs, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Arson, Burns, Divorce, Exes as Friends, Families of Choice, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, First Kiss, First Time, Food, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, No Cheating/Infidelity, Paparazzi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, and relating injuries, background James "Bucky" Barnes/Sharon Carter, seriously this is the slowest burn I've ever written and will ever write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:28:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29333817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weethreequarter/pseuds/weethreequarter
Summary: In the wake of the announcement of his engagement to the Princess Royal, Bucky spends his first summer at Balmoral and meets Tony, one of the chefs working there for the season. Through marriages, children, family dramas, and the whirlwind of life in the spotlight, they build a friendship over secrets and food.But as time goes on, Tony and Bucky begin to realise that there may be more than just friendship between them.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 46
Kudos: 36
Collections: Marvel Trumps Hate 2020





	1. Cranachan Sundae

**Author's Note:**

  * For [betheflame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betheflame/gifts), [Wiggle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiggle/gifts), [Corsets_and_Cardigans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corsets_and_Cardigans/gifts), [Sagana_Rojana_Olt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagana_Rojana_Olt/gifts), [sonofdvrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonofdvrin/gifts).



> So, here we are again. Another MTH and another royalty AU! I totally blame - and by blame, I mean thank - Flame for getting me hooked on writing royalty AUs. A huge thank you to everyone in the pod who fought for this fic - I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Huge thank you to [Faustess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faustess/pseuds/Faustess) and [pensivegrace](https://pensivegrace.tumblr.com) for all the cheering and for betaing this fic. You are both amazing! ❤️
> 
> This fic is complete and will be updated weekly.
> 
> A NOTE ON THE ENGLISH USED: in this verse Bucky is Scottish and went to an international school, and Tony has lived in Scotland since childhood so they both use a mix of Britishisms and American English.
> 
> Tony has 616!Tony's height just because I can.

**AUGUST 1996**

Bucky lay in bed, unable to sleep, staring up at the ceiling and found himself thinking back to his first night at Balnagown when his sister tried to comfort him as he cried his eyes out.

“Shh, Jimmy,” Betty’d whispered, glancing towards the door. “Be quiet. Don’t ever let them see you cry.” 

“I want my mam!” he’d sobbed.

He could use his sister now, but Betty had left Balnagown after a screaming match when she was twenty-one because their father disapproved of her boyfriend. When she’d left, Thaddeus disowned her. Her pictures were removed from the walls and her name was never mentioned again. She sent Bucky a wedding invitation a few years later and in his nine year-old innocence, he’d honestly believed that he would be able to sneak away to America without his father noticing. But then one of the staff found the invite and gave it to his father who destroyed it. 

Bucky never heard from her again. 

Outside, the wind gusted against the windows and Bucky shivered, the cold drawing him back to the present. He’d grown up in a castle but he still wasn’t used to the drafts that managed to sneak into every room and find any exposed piece of skin, even in the middle of summer. To make matters worse, his stomach was grumbling and he’d never been able to fall asleep when he was hungry. 

Bucky lay there for a few more minutes, debating the merits of going in search of food against the very high possibility that he would get lost and be unable to find his way back to his room, before deciding _fuck it_ and climbing out of bed. He pulled a jumper on and shoved his feet into his trainers to ward off the chill. 

Opening the door slowly - because Bucky also knew that doors in castles had a habit of creaking loudly, making it near impossible to sneak in or out - he slipped out of the room and tiptoed along the corridor. He froze halfway down the stairs, hearing the murmur of voices, but it was just a couple of Personal Protection Officers doing the rounds. Reaching the ground floor, he let out a breath then hurried down the corridor that he was pretty sure would lead him to the kitchens. 

He let out a sigh of relief when he peeked through the door at the end of the corridor and found the kitchen, every surface gleaming in the moonlight coming through the windows. Bucky let himself in, closing the door behind him, then crossed the room, wondering where he would find the snacks, when a voice called out, “Hey, what are you doing in here?”

Bucky jumped, holding up his hands in surrender. 

“Sorry! I was just, I was hungry,” he replied. 

The light flicked on and Bucky saw a man on the other side of the kitchen, a few years older than him, eyeing him suspiciously. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Bucky.

“Aren’t you Louisa’s fiancé?”

Bucky fought the urge to grimace.

“Yeah. I’m Bucky. Are you a PPO?”

The man snorted. 

“I’m a chef,” he replied. “Tony.”

“Sorry,” Bucky blurted, aware that he was starting to word vomit but unable to stop. “I, um, I was just, I was hungry so I was just, um, looking for a-”

“Midnight snack?” Tony supplied. His lips twitched upwards into a smile and his eyes were kind. 

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, twisting his hands into the sleeves of his jumper. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Tony shook his head. “Sit.”

“Are you going to turn me in?” Bucky asked, sitting at the table.

“For what? Being hungry? No, I’m going to feed you.”

“Oh. Thanks.” But when he saw Tony pull out a frying pan a spike of alarm jolted through Bucky. “You don’t need to do that,” he blurted out. “I can just have, like, Wotsits or something.”

Tony arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. No one should eat those things. I mean, my brother does but he has the constitution of a garbage disposal.”

“I guess he misses having an actual chef living with him?”

“Oh, we live together. He just likes to torture me,” Tony smiled, pouring oats into the frying pan.

“I think we have very different brothers,” Bucky commented, thinking about Grant’s cruel smirk whenever Bucky fell for one of his tricks. 

“Technically, he’s my cousin. But he’s lived with us since he was seven. All small and skinny and full of righteous anger.” 

“Sounds cute,” Bucky replied, but he couldn’t help wondering if Tony’s cousin was given a choice when he moved in with his cousin or if he was forced. Not that he was still bitter.

Who was he kidding? Of course he was still bitter. He would never forgive his father for basically kidnapping him and refusing to give his mother access. Not that she needed to be stopped; as soon as Thaddeus refused to let Bucky go home, she gave up on him. 

“He was,” Tony smiled. “Now he’s just a pain in my ass.” But it was said with affection. 

Bucky nodded quietly, watching Tony pour the oats into a bowl then spoon honey in with them. He was tall and Bucky didn’t know that anyone could be that handsome. Well, not real people anyway. Actors and pop stars maybe, but they were primped and polished beyond recognition and didn’t count.

“You want to talk about it?” Tony offered. 

“Huh?” 

“Whatever’s keeping you awake. I’m guessing it’s not just hunger.”

“What else could it be?” Bucky asked bitterly. “The fact I’m engaged to somebody I don’t know who’s ten years older than me and the whole world is watching and waiting for me to fuck up?”

“That’ll do it,” Tony nodded, mashing fresh raspberries with a fork. 

“I wouldn’t even be here if I had a choice,” Bucky muttered.

Then he realised that he’d just spilled his biggest secret to a complete stranger. His head snapped up, staring at Tony in alarm.

Tony’s eyes were kind.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone,” he promised. He held out his hand, his pinkie extended. “Pinkie swear?”

Bucky giggled but he linked his pinkie with Tony’s. Tony winked at him before turning back to whatever it was he was making. 

“Since you’ve already sworn me to secrecy, if you need to talk about it, I’m happy to listen,” Tony offered, scooping cream into a bowl. He picked up a bottle of whisky from the shelf then frowned. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Okay, good,” Tony nodded. “I’m not about to supply alcohol to a minor.”

“I’ve been stealing from my dad’s drinks cabinet since I was fifteen,” Bucky replied.

“Ah, memories…”

“I’m just… really lonely,” Bucky admitted. “My best friend moved back to America cause she’s joining the Air Force. She’s kinda my only friend.”

“And I’m guessing your relationship with your brother isn’t good?”

Bucky shook his head. “He’s an asshole. And I haven’t seen my sister in ten years. I don’t really have anybody.”

“You have me,” Tony said, putting down the whisky and sticking his finger into the cream to taste it. He pulled a face. “Needs sugar. Anyway, like I said, you’ve got me for at least the rest of the summer. And if I don’t disgrace myself and I’m lucky enough to be invited back, you’ll have me next year too.”

“How could you disgrace yourself?” Bucky grinned.

“Oh, in so many ways.”

“Well, you gotta promise me that if you do, you have to do it when I’m around,” he declared, resting his chin in his hands and watching Tony spoon the various items together into a bowl. “What is that anyway?”

“Cranachan sundae,” Tony announced, sliding the bowl across the table before presenting a spoon to him with a flourish. “Bon appetit.” 

Digging his spoon into the mixture with a smile, Bucky saw ice cream, the whisky cream mixture he’d watched Tony mix, chocolate sauce, raspberries, oats and a sprinkle of chocolate shavings on top. He made sure to get a bit of everything on his spoon and took a bite.

“That’s amazing,” he mumbled, his mouth full. “Wow, thank you.”

“Better than Wotsits?” Tony teased.

“Much better. Your brother’s missing out.”

“Don’t I know it.” He folded his arms on the counter and leaned forward. “And hey. I don’t know Louisa. I don’t know any of the royals. But I don’t think she’s a cruel person. And maybe that’s all that matters? It’s definitely easier than the opposite.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “I’m just scared. It’s not like marrying anyone else. I’m marrying a literal princess. My kids are gonna be royalty. That’s a lot.”

“It is a lot,” Tony agreed. 

“Are you married?”

Tony snorted. “God, no. I don’t think there’s anyone in the world who could put up with me full time. Steve doesn’t count, he’s family. He has to put up with me.” 

Bucky smiled. He chased the last remnants of the dessert, licking all traces from his spoon and wondering if it would be impolite to lick the bowl. He was engaged to a Princess; it probably wasn’t acceptable. But he still kinda wanted to. 

“Thanks. That was delicious.”

“My pleasure,” Tony replied. “I like to feed people.” 

“Guess you wouldn’t be a chef if you didn’t.”

“Yeah. I actually got disowned for it.”

“For being a chef?”

Tony nodded. “My dad’s in the oil industry. It’s how we ended up over here. I was supposed to follow in his footsteps. I did not. So he disowned me.”

“Wow.”

“Worth it,” Tony smiled. 

Bucky nodded slowly. He twisted his mouth to the side, glancing around the gleaming surfaces of the kitchen. 

“I’d probably get disowned if I didn’t marry Sharon,” he said. “I mean, Louisa. They call her Sharon, cause her mom was-”

“Also Louisa,” Tony nodded. “I remember. Her funeral was the year after we moved to Aberdeen. You know no one can make you get married, right? In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s at least questionably legal. You could say no and yeah, you might get disowned. But speaking as someone who’s been disowned, it’s not that bad.”

“I don’t feel old enough to be getting married,” Bucky confessed.

“That’s because you’re a kid.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Oh, you’re ancient,” he deadpanned. 

“I’ll have you know I found my first grey hair this year,” Tony sniffed. “I call it Steve. Because it’s probably his fault."

“I think you’re right,” Bucky decided. “Sharon’s not cruel. And yeah, it’s kinda awkward, but that’s because we’re engaged and we don’t even know each other yet. It’ll get better. We just gotta… get to know each other. Right?”

“Right,” Tony nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

“I wanna make a difference,” Bucky said. “And marrying a princess means you can do a lot of things. Help people, right? That’s what I want to do.”

“There you go,” Tony said, and for a second Bucky thought he sensed a trace of pride in Tony’s voice. 

“Thanks. For listening.” Bucky shrugged, feeling his face heat up. “I don’t really have anyone to talk about this kinda stuff with, so…”

“I’m here late every Saturday, so if you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks Tony.” Bucky offered him a smile, hoping it wasn’t too awkward. He’d never been good at talking to anyone who wasn’t Carol - and the only reason they were friends was because she’d decided that she liked Bucky on their first day at St. Leonards and befriended him - and not only was Tony a stranger, he was a very handsome, charming, older man who had everything together. Bucky thought he felt like a child the first time he was introduced to his future wife, but it had nothing on how he felt with the full force of Tony’s attention turned on him. 

_You’re engaged_ , Bucky reminded himself.

 _Doesn’t mean you can’t look_ , a voice that sounded suspiciously like Carol’s replied. 

“No problem,” Tony replied.

“I should, uh, probably try and find my way back to my room,” Bucky said reluctantly. “Keep your fingers crossed I don’t get lost.”

“You’ll be fine,” Tony smiled and Bucky got the impression he meant more than just finding his bedroom. 

“Good night Tony,” Bucky nodded, sliding out of his seat. 

His hand was on the door when Tony called, “Hang on!”

Bucky turned and found Tony rummaging through one of the cupboards and emerging with a Tupperware container. He grabbed a couple of tins from the shelf, taking something from each of them and placing it in the Tupperware before snapping the box shut and handing it to Bucky.

“What is this?” Bucky frowned.

“Tablet and shortbread,” Tony explained. “Fresh made this afternoon. In case you get hungry again. And remember: I’m here every Saturday if you need to talk.”

“Might just take you up on that,” Bucky replied. 

Tony winked at him. “See you then.”

Bucky knew he was definitely blushing this time.

“See you,” he echoed. 

He managed to sneak back upstairs unnoticed and it only took him two attempts to get the right room (and his mistaken attempt was thankfully an empty bathroom). Closing the door carefully behind him, Bucky toed off his trainers then crossed to the bed. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, flicking open the Tupperware box and sniffing. The smell of sugar and butter wafted through the air and Bucky couldn’t resist picking up a piece of tablet and popping it in his mouth. 

It was amazing that an hour with Tony had managed to quell his nerves. Bucky still wasn’t optimistic about his future, but it seemed less insurmountable now. When Tony smiled like that, it was hard to feel like anything was impossible. 

“You can do this,” Bucky murmured, stealing another piece of tablet before snapping the box shut and shoving it under the bed.

After all, what alternatives did he have? Going back to his father?

Anything would be better than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony's Cranachan Sundae is inspired by two different recipes found [here](https://realfood.tesco.com/recipes/cranachan-ice-cream-sundae.html) and [here](https://www.waitrose.com/home/recipes/recipe_directory/h/heston_s_ice_creamcranachansundae.html).


	2. Chicken Tikka Masala

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Brief mention of panic attack

**APRIL 1997**

Tony was firmly of the opinion that breakfast shift was the worst. The only thing worse than breakfast shift was a breakfast shift after a dinner shift, which meant he was operating on very little sleep and was why he had a new burn the size of a penny on the bottom of his right palm, joining the litany of other healed burns and cuts that covered his hands. 

He breathed in the fresh air as he stepped out of the staff entrance, linking his fingers together and stretching his arms high above his head to remove the kinks from his spine. Then, fishing in his backpack for his car keys, he climbed into the battered old Clio that he shared with Steve and Rhodey and cranked up the radio to keep him awake as he navigated the traffic made worse by the bank holiday. 

Tony drummed his finger against the wheel, wishing not for the first time that he had the money to start up his own restaurant. He knew that working your way up was how to earn respect as a chef, but when he was nursing a fresh burn and running on five hours sleep, he regretted the loss of Howard’s money and with it the ability to jump ahead in his career to the point where opening his own restaurant was a reality instead of merely a distant dream.

“That’s not happening,” Tony reminded himself with a sigh. 

He managed to grab a parking space fairly close to their flat, double checking that the Clio’s temperamental locks had actually engaged before pushing open their gate. He stifled a yawn, stabbing at the lock twice before the key slipped in, and let himself in. He kicked off his shoes, adding them to the pile in the corner that mostly belonged to Steve before making his way upstairs.

He found Rhodey and Steve curled up on a sofa each in the living room, their eyes fixed on the TV.

“Morning,” Tony called.

“Hey,” Steve replied without looking away from the screen.

“Has it started?” Tony asked, checking the screen but it was focused on the crowds lining the streets around Westminster Abbey for the Royal Wedding.

“Nah, everyone’s still piling in,” Rhodey replied.

Tony crossed the hall to his bedroom, stripping out of his whites and chucking them in the laundry before rejoining Steve and Rhodey, after a detour to the kitchen to heat up leftover Chicken Tikka Masala from the night before.

“What are you eating?” Tony frowned, climbing onto the sofa next to Steve.

“Rhodey brought me Fruit Loops back from Philly,” Steve grinned. 

Tony glowered at his best friend. “What are you trying to do to me?”

“You try saying no to his puppy dog eyes,” Rhodey retorted.

“They’re good,” Steve insisted.

“Yes, and they have less nutritional value than cardboard,” Tony sighed. Steve and Rhodey exchanged a smirk. “Oh, shut up,” Tony huffed, stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork. “What did I miss anyway?”

“Robbie Williams tripped on the steps,” Steve replied around a mouthful of Fruit Loops. “Kate Winslet’s dress is amazing, I love it.”

“You want it,” Rhodey corrected.

“Yeah, that too,” Steve grinned. “Now we’re on to the usual parade of politicians and distant Royal family members that no one knows who they are and it’s boring.”

“Although judging the hats is proving to be entertaining,” Rhodey added. “Shit, look at that one!”

“Fuck, what is on her head?” Steve exclaimed, leaning forward. “I don’t know what’s worse, her hat or the comb over on the guy behind her.”

“Definitely the comb over,” Tony decided.

Steve and Rhodey turned to him in surprise.

“What?”

“You work for these people,” Rhodey pointed out.

Tony shrugged. “Only for the summer. And, technically, I work for the King. Or his people. The Crown pays my checks. And so what?”

“You don’t usually… judge them the way we do,” Steve said.

“I don’t even know who that is,” he exclaimed.

“What’s up with you?” Rhodey asked.

“Nothing," Tony snapped. Rhodey raised his eyebrows and Tony cringed. “Nothing,” he repeated, making an effort to sound less confrontational.

“Uh huh. Sure,” Rhodey nodded, his tone saying that he didn’t believe a word of Tony’s bullshit.

Tony turned back to the TV with a frown, guilt souring the taste of what was perfectly good leftover chicken. He couldn’t stop wondering if he’d done the right thing last summer when he met Bucky. He couldn’t forget the scared expression on the kid’s face when Tony found him in the kitchen looking for a midnight snack. It was second nature to Tony to do his best to soothe him, because he was only a year older than Steve and Tony had been looking out for Steve for over ten years. And he wasn’t lying when he told Bucky that he was happy to listen.

However, Tony didn’t know Bucky, so he’d kept his advice vague and agreed with what Bucky said because he didn’t feel it was his place to say _don’t get married, you’re a child_. That should come from someone who actually knew Bucky. 

But, God, when Bucky had looked at him with determination in his eyes and declared that he wanted to make a difference, Tony had wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and shake him. 

_It wasn’t your place_ , Tony reminded himself, spearing a piece of chicken with his fork. He wasn’t really Bucky’s friend; he was just someone who’d lent a sympathetic ear for a few nights. 

But watching all those people - politicians and foreign leaders and dignitaries - file into Westminster Abbey to watch Bucky marry a princess who was ten years his senior, brought back the guilt he’d first felt driving along the A93 on a dark August night in full force. 

“So how many of them have you met?” Rhodey asked, nodding towards the TV.

“Uh, the King and his kids,” Tony replied. “Plus Barnes-Ross.”

“What are they like?” Steve asked. 

“They’re fine,” Tony shrugged. 

“Okay but, does the King actually know how to smile?” Steve asked. “Cause, I don’t think he does. I think his face might break.”

“He knows how to smile. And he’s very good on the barbecue,” Tony replied. “They, uh, they have a bat problem in the ballroom at Balmoral. Apparently the King used to catch them with a net. He gets the staff to do it now.”

“For a minute I thought you were going to say he barbecued them,” Rhodey said.

Tony snorted. “Not to my knowledge. But if I’m ever asked for recipes for bat, I’ll let you know. I danced with Princess Margaret at the Ghillies Ball.”

“Yeah?”

“A particularly vicious Orcadian Strip the Willow,” Tony nodded. 

“What about him?” Rhodey asked, pointing to the TV where the camera managed to focus on Bucky’s face through the window of the Rolls Royce driving through the crowd-lined streets of Central London. “What’s he like?”

Tony shrugged. “Didn’t really have much contact with him,” he lied. 

He felt Rhodey’s eyes on him, like he knew he was lying - which in fairness, he probably did, because Rhodey had been able to read Tony like a book since they met at the painfully awkward Student Union mixer in their first week at RGU - but Tony kept his gaze on the screen where the Rolls Royce pulled to a smooth stop outside Westminster Abbey. The door was opened then Bucky stepped out in smart morning dress.

He reminded Tony of a kid playing dress up and Tony’s heart twisted. 

_“James Barnes-Ross, the groom, arriving at Westminster Abbey with his brother, Grant Ward-Ross, who is his supporter and their father, Thaddeus Ross,” the commentator announced. “And it has been announced that the King has granted James the titles Duke of Edinburgh, Earl of Monteith, and Baron of Greenwich, and will be known as His Royal Highness the Duke of Edinburgh.”_

Bucky was standing to the side, waiting awkwardly while his brother helped their father out of the car. It was obvious to everyone that Thaddeus Ross needed help - Tony vaguely remembered mention of a stroke in an interview or a documentary or an article - but he couldn’t help feeling sorry for Bucky. Because his “supporter” was busy supporting their father, leaving Bucky walking into that huge Abbey alone, thousands of faces staring hungrily at him for a glimpse of the future Prince Consort. 

“Show’s starting, here’s the bridesmaids,” Steve commented, tossing Fruit Loops in the air and catching them with his mouth. 

“The little ones look cute,” Rhodey said.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, watching Princess Margaret organise the flower girls and the page boys at the entrance to the Abbey, waiting until they’d started making their way down the aisle before returning to the foot of the steps to wait for the carriage making its way through the streets from Buckingham Palace, that the cameras continued to helpfully cut to so they could see its progress. 

“On a scale one to ten, how bad do you think the dress will be?” Steve wondered. 

“I hope there’s bows,” Rhodey said, sipping on his coffee. 

“There won’t be bows,” Tony shook his head. “She doesn’t strike me as a bow person.” 

The problem was, he didn’t know what kind of person Princess Louisa was. He’d watched documentaries, read articles and poured over photos candid and professional, trying to figure out what kind of person she was and, more importantly, what kind of wife she would be to Bucky. But through all that, all Tony could grasp was that she was polite, quiet, a good listener and a hard worker. Which wasn’t much to go on. 

The carriage came to a halt at the foot of the steps and a footman opened the door. The King stepped out, looking happier than Tony ever remembered him seeing in public, then held out his hand for his daughter. Louisa emerged in a cloud of white lace and silk. 

“Wow,” Steve murmured.

“Okay, that’s nice,” Rhodey nodded.

Tony had to agree. As Louisa made her way up the steps on her father’s arm, Princess Margaret arranged her train and the lace veil, creating a beautiful image. The dress was simple, the only embellishment on the waist, it’s beauty coming from its simplicity and the flattering shape.

Tony watched as the cameras followed their process down the aisle. When they switched to Bucky, waiting at the other end, he looked nervous but determined. And when the King handed Louisa to Bucky, they seemed to exchange a brief smile that encouraged Tony. Maybe they’d managed to make it work since Balmoral.

God, he hoped so. 

* * *

He couldn’t breathe. The room was stifling and his suit cloying and if he could, Bucky would’ve sprinted from the room, from the palace, and would run as far away as he could without looking back.

But he couldn’t, because he was paralysed, only able to move when the photographer gave him directions. The gold ring on his finger weighed heavily, more heavily than his wife’s - his wife, how the hell did he have a wife? - hand on his arm.

“Smile,” the photographer instructed and Bucky felt his lips stretch into a smile even though he wanted to throw up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story about the bats at Balmoral is apparently true, and allegedly the Queen used to catch them with a net.


	3. Porridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for PTSD and flashbacks

**AUGUST 1999**

His eyes snapped open and he flung himself out of bed, trying desperately to get away from the screaming metal and the heat. The carpet felt sharp against his bare feet as he stumbled across the room. In his mind’s eye, he could see the blades still spinning, digging into the soft ground. He could smell the smoke and the petrol and fear seized him because he knew that if he didn’t move, there was a very good chance this thing was going to blow up.

He yanked the door open, stumbling out into the hallway. He had to get out but his arm was stuck beneath a crate. Hurrying down the stairs, he collided with the wall. Shaking his head, he began to move again, urgency crawling up his spine and digging its claws into his skin. He had to get his arm free but no one was helping him.

The floor was cold and slippery beneath his feet. He lost his footing and tried to reach out to save himself only he couldn’t because his arm was trapped. Righting himself, he hurried forward, bursting through a door and kicking the crate off of his arm, finally, finally, and tumbled out of the- 

“Bucky?”

Bucky spun around and found Tony watching him with concern. He gulped for air. Glancing around, he realised that he was in the kitchen at Balmoral. The memories began to fade. He squeezed his eyes shut, letting his head hang.

“You okay?” Tony’s voice was soft and gentle.

“Yeah,” Bucky lied. 

He heard footsteps and felt someone standing within arm’s reach. It made his skin crawl even though he knew it was Tony and that Tony was no threat to him.

“Can I touch you?” Tony asked quietly.

Bucky hesitated then nodded. He felt Tony’s hand on his shoulder, warm and firm and real, and latched onto it, using it to ground himself and stay in the present.

“Come on,” Tony murmured, guiding him forward. “Sit down.”

Bucky finally opened his eyes, sitting down in what had become his seat over the past few summers.

“You know, we gotta stop meeting like this,” Tony joked. His smile was like a balm and his eyes were as kind tonight as they were three years ago when they first met.

“I didn’t know where I was,” Bucky admitted. “I was… I thought I was there. In the chopper. When it. Went down.”

Tony squeezed his shoulder, rubbing comforting circles through his shirt. It was his left shoulder, Bucky realised belatedly. Tony was touching his left shoulder. And he wasn’t pulling away from it or avoiding looking at the stump poking out from the arm of his shirt.

Even Bucky struggled to look at the stump. 

“Hungry?” Tony asked.

“I can eat,” Bucky lied. In truth, he’d struggled to eat anything since being discharged from the hospital. Food made his stomach turn and he was surviving on the bare minimum, which gave him a gaunt look that he knew had been noticed. And not just because the press were speculating on whether or not he had an eating disorder. 

He listened to the familiar sounds of Tony working in the kitchen, appreciating the silence to reorientate himself now that he knew he was here and not in a field in the middle of Wales somewhere. If he closed his eyes, he was back there, rolling out of the helicopter and marching across the hill to bollock his sergeant for leaving him there.

The sound of a plate on the table brought him back to the present. Bucky realised he’d closed his eyes again when he opened them and found a bowl of porridge sitting in front of him. He experienced a rush of gratitude for Tony. He didn’t know how Tony had known that he couldn’t stomach anything more than porridge, but he was grateful that he did. 

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Tony replied, taking the seat opposite him and drizzling honey onto his own bowl of porridge.

Bucky bypassed the honey and jam for the salt, smiling a little when Tony pulled a face and shook his head.

“Mad Scotsman,” Tony muttered. 

Bucky took a tentative taste of the porridge. When his stomach didn’t object he began to eat slowly, trying to avoid hitting his spoon off of the bowl too often because the sound went straight through his head. 

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Tony said tentatively.

“Why? I’m not,” Bucky muttered. “Dying’s the only good thing he’s ever done for me.” He cringed. “Sorry, that probably sounds horrible.”

“I’m kind of the poster boy for daddy issues,” Tony mused, “So you’re all good.”

“I don’t know, I might have you beat in that area.”

“Impossible,” Tony shook his head. “I’m older than you, therefore I have more issues than you.” 

“Fine, you win,” Bucky smiled. “You’re more fucked up than I am.”

“I will drink to that,” Tony grinned, raising his glass of water in a toast.

They lapsed into a companionable silence. Bucky realised that Tony had slowed down his eating so Bucky wasn’t left eating alone after Tony’d finished. It made him feel warm, that simple acknowledgement and adjustment without making a big deal of it. 

As he reached the bottom of the bowl, he experienced a flash of pain, as though a surge of electricity was jolted through his fingers. His fingers that were no longer there.

“Fuck,” he hissed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing really anyway,” Bucky muttered. “Phantom pain.”

“Do you need anything?”

“My arm back?” he suggested, twisting his mouth in a bitter smile. 

“Sorry, I quit engineering to go to culinary school,” Tony apologised and he really did look sorry, as though if he was an engineer he could magically reattach Bucky’s arm that the best surgeons in London couldn’t save. 

“Urgh, fucking shit,” Bucky swore, massaging his stump, hoping it would pass. Experience told him that his arm was going to ache all night until he went to sleep - if he could sleep with the pain. “You know, after the crash, I thought it was fine,” he said. “There was a bruise - a big bastard of a thing with all the colours of the rainbow - but it was fine. I had full movement and it hurt, yeah, but there was a fucking crate on it so, you know, no big deal, right?” 

He laughed bitterly. 

“Then it didn’t go away. And a few days later, there’s a doctor telling me that I’ve got acute compartment syndrome which means the blood ain’t flowing to my arm properly and I’ve gotta go for emergency surgery. So I get whisked back up to London and they put me under and I think they’re gonna fix my arm. And when I woke up I thought they had. First thing I said to a nurse when I woke up was “ _So the surgery went well?_ ” He snorted. “No, it fucking didn’t. They took my goddamn arm.”

Bucky squeezed the bridge of his nose, then pushed his too-long hair off of his face. Everyone kept hinting that it was time for a haircut but Bucky didn’t want anyone coming near him with anything sharp, even if it was just scissors to cut his hair. 

“I never even wanted to join the army,” he muttered. “But when you’re married to the Princess Royal, you can’t have a normal career.” He slumped in his chair. “Doesn’t matter. Not like I was going to university anyway.”

“What would you have studied?” Tony asked and he sounded genuinely curious.

Bucky shrugged. “I always thought - you know, before - I thought I’d like to do something like music therapy. Maybe specialise with kids. My dad said it was stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid, I think it’s admirable,” Tony frowned. “That’s a difficult field.”

Bucky shrugged again. “Doesn’t matter. It wasn’t happening before and it definitely ain’t happening now.”

He could still hear his father’s anger that _No son of mine is going to be a goddamn shrink_ and Grant’s laughter when his face flushed. 

“For what it’s worth,” Tony said, “I think you would’ve been good at it.”

“Thanks.” 

Bucky picked up his spoon again, trying to ignore the lingering ache in an arm that was no longer there, and scraped out the rest of the porridge. 

“You know what the worst part about this is?” he asked, indicating to his missing arm with his spoon. “All I want to do is pick my baby. And I can’t. I was lying in that hospital bed and I remember thinking _I have a nine month old. How the hell am I supposed to pick her up when she cries?_ ” He shook his head. “All I wanted was my little girl. To have her there, to know she was safe. Alex is the one good thing to come out of all this, and now I can’t even pick her up when she’s crying. Can’t even be a good dad.”

“Hey. You are a good dad,” Tony insisted. “Because I know what a bad dad looks like. I was raised by a bad dad. And you’re nothing like Howard. You think your dad ever cried about being unable to pick you up?”

“He didn’t pick us up unless he had to. That’s what the nannies were for.”

“Exactly.”

* * *

Over the past three years, Tony had watched Bucky become angrier and bitter but this was something different. And not in a good way. He’d thought it was bad last year when he ranted about being made to return to his unit only a week after his daughter’s birth, but it was tempered by the way Bucky’s face softened and lit up when he spoke about baby Alexandria. 

Then two months after they said goodbye, Tony turned on the news to the reports that the Duke of Edinburgh had been involved in a helicopter accident during a training exercise in Wales, but he’d emerged injury free. 

Less than a week later came the sombre announcement that he’d lost his arm. 

Now, Bucky was sitting across from him and Tony could see the dark circles beneath his eyes and the way his shirt hung off of him that it never had before, even that first year before he’d started training at Sandhurst. 

He was twenty-two. 

“You know they want us to have another kid?” Bucky said. “Only thing I’m useful for. Fuck. This family.”

He shook his head, his jaw clenched. 

“They’re good people,” he continued, “But that doesn’t change the fact it’s really fucked up.”

“It is,” Tony agreed. “Bucky, are you okay? I know that’s probably a stupid question, but…”

Across the table, Bucky stared at him. Tony wasn’t sure what he’d said that was so confusing, and he began to worry that Bucky had lost himself in his own head again until Bucky spoke.

“You know, I don’t remember the last time anybody asked me that,” he said quietly. He swallowed, his throat bobbing, and his eyes grew shiny. “No. No, I’m not.”

“Can I give you a hug?” Tony blurted out. “Sorry, it’s just. If you were Steve, I would’ve hugged you by now and I really think you could use a hug.”

Bucky nodded quickly, swiping away a stray tear that had escaped down his cheek. Tony rounded the table and Bucky stood. He looked awkward and unsure, and that hurt most of all. Who didn’t know what to do when someone offered them a hug? Even Tony knew how to hug, mostly thanks to Steve’s presence in his life. So he put his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and drew him in, tucking his head beneath his chin and holding him tight. He felt Bucky’s arm hesitantly come up around his waist. Then his hand gripped Tony’s shirt, like a silent plea not to let go. 

Carding a hand through Bucky’s hair, Tony stood there and held him. He didn’t bother with empty platitudes like _it’s okay_ or _you’ll be fine_ , because they both knew that Tony couldn’t promise that. He couldn’t promise anything except good food and this hug.

He felt Bucky’s shoulders start to shake and Tony tightened his grip. Neither of them made a sound, but Tony felt his shirt grow damp against his collarbone.

Eventually Bucky pulled back. Tony let him go with a squeeze to both shoulders, returning to his own side of the table to give Bucky a chance to wipe his face. His eyes were still red and his face flushed, but he looked… Not better, because that certainly wasn’t true, but like he’d done something that he needed to do. 

“Steve’s starting his final year of university next month” Tony said.

“Yeah?” Bucky murmured, brushing his cheeks and pushing his hair back from his face. “Already?”

“God, don’t,” Tony whined. “I feel so old. He’s graduating with a masters soon and in my mind he’s still seven and tiny.” 

“You’re proud of him though.”

“Oh yeah. So proud. Did I ever tell you how he ended up living with us?” he asked, knowing full well that he hadn’t.

Bucky shook his head.

“His mom and my mom were sisters,” Tony explained. “Aunt Sarah. She was amazing. I loved spending time with her. Then she got sick and she died when Steve was seven. His dad was, well, a complete waste of space but he’d died when Steve was a toddler so Steve came to live with us. I was so jealous. Until one day I found Steve crying in his room and he was so tiny and alone. I just sat down and held him for more than an hour while he cried. And that was it: he was my brother. I hate him, he’s a complete pain in the ass, but I’d help him hide a body and give him an alibi without a second thought.” 

“Must be nice, having a brother like that,” Bucky murmured. 

“Nice…” Tony pretended to think about it. “Clearly you’ve never had to share a bathroom with him. Or a bedroom wall, Jesus Christ Steve, there are some things I do not need to know about my brother.”

Bucky burst out laughing. He looked surprised by his laughter but it chased away some of the shadows from his face, so Tony counted it as a win. 

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I can imagine. I would not want to know that about Grant either.” 

“He’s a dummy but I love him,” Tony shrugged. 

Bucky glanced up at the clock. Tony’s eyes followed automatically; nearly one in the morning.

“I should let you go,” Bucky said. “You gotta drive home, right?”

Which was true. But Tony could see the tension in Bucky’s shoulders and knew there was no way he was sleeping any time soon. And he didn’t like the idea of leaving him alone in this big, drafty castle when he was like this. 

“I can stay for a while yet.”

Bucky looks dubious, but he didn’t call Tony out. Instead they slipped into a comfortable silence, which was unusual for Tony. He couldn’t remember the last time he sat in silence with someone without feeling the urge to fill the void with insignificant chatter.

That was a lie.

He knew exactly when it was.

It was in 1985 in California, in the bedroom next to his own, with Steve crying on his shoulder.

Tony bit back a smile.

And so they sat there in silence, taking comfort in each other’s presence, well into the early hours of the morning. But in Tony’s mind, it was worth the exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tony's Porridge Recipe:**  
>  Pour water & oats into a saucepan. Add salt. Stir until bubbles appear and the porridge thickens. Serve with toppings of your choice (or add more salt like Bucky).


	4. Barbecue

**2000**

_from The Age on May 22nd 2000_

**The Duke finds little to smile at in Alice**

The sunshine was bright, the heat of the summer out in full force, and the flies were not the only things buzzing when the Royal plane landed in the Northern Territory yesterday. The Princess Royal and her husband, the Duke of Edinburgh, arrived with their two children and posed for the photographers on the airport tarmac. 

But while Louisa seemed delighted to be back in Australia - she last visited the country in 1996, just before her engagement to James - the same could not be said for the Duke. He stood to one side holding the couple’s youngest daughter, Princess Caroline, and looked decidedly less than cheerful. Perhaps the Duke’s gloomy demeanour could be attributed to the fact that two-year-old Princess Alexandra and two-month-old Princess Caroline were about to be taken away from him for three days. While the Royal couple attend official engagements, their children are to be cared for by their nannies at Yarralumla in Canberra.

However some questioned whether the rumours about James’ deteriorating mental health since the accident that claimed his arm eighteen months ago were true. Certainly the Duke looked healthier than he has in recent months, but eyebrows were raised.

Whatever the reason, the Duke of Edinburgh struggled to paste on a smile for the photographers.

The Princess and the Duke were met by a selection of political dignitaries, however Prime Minister Alexander Pierce was not in attendance. Apparently he declined to travel to the Northern Territory, choosing instead to greet the couple upon their arrival in Canberra next week. 

The couple were greeted by a burst of applause from the waiting crowd, comprising mostly of women and children. The Princess looked radiant in a royal blue shift dress and white heels. The Duke wore beige slacks and a short sleeved shirt, as has become customary since losing his arm. Apparently James dislikes the feeling of having sleeves pinned up and prefers to show off the result of his injury. 

The young princesses appear to have inherited their father’s dark hair. Princess Alexandra looked picture perfect in a bright red smocked dress and patent leather shoes, while Princess Caroline wore a flower-patterned romper suit. Princess Caroline was carried from the plane by one of the Royal nannies, Natasha Romanoff, before being handed to the Duke for the photographs, while Princess Alexandra descended the steps hand in hand with her mother. 

The Royal couple made their way through the waiting crowd quickly, before being whisked away. There were some complaints (rightly so) that the whole thing was a media show and that the local people had been ignored. 

Later in the evening, the Princess and the Duke hosted a reception for reporters. They seemed relaxed and happy, and chatted for more than an hour. However, the ground rules from the reception prevent me from relaying anything that was said during the event. 

Today the Royal Couple begin their official engagements in the Northern Territory before going on the Canberra later in the week, where they will be reunited with their children.

* * *

“Do you have everything?” Tony asked.

Steve rolled his eyes, shoving his backpack further onto his shoulder.

“Yes, mom,” he drawled. “You asked me that five times already.”

“Did I?” Tony replied innocently. He knew he was being a little OTT, but in his defence his little brother was about to leave the country on his own for the first time.

His baby brother who was as tall as he was.

(Steve claimed he was an inch taller but that was because he was a liar and a cheater and Tony refused to believe that kind of slander.)

“I’ll be fine,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“I know,” Tony frowned. And he did. He knew Steve would be fine, travelling on his own. But that didn’t mean that Tony wasn’t going to spend the next few months worrying. At least worrying about Steve would stop him from worrying about Bucky and scouring the articles about the Royal Tour for any hint that Bucky wasn’t doing so good.

“Don’t you trust me?” Steve asked, pouting a little.

“Hey,” Tony warned, waggling his finger in Steve’s face. “We have a no puppy dog eyes rule, remember? That still applies even if you are abandoning me for months.”

“You’ll be fine,” Steve laughed with a disturbingly cavalier attitude to his only brother’s wellbeing. “You’re going down to Portsmouth in less than a month.”

“Okay. Give me a hug before I get rid of you,” Tony ordered, opening his arms. 

Despite all his laughter, Steve stepped right into his arms, winding his own arms tightly around Tony’s waist.

“Be careful and enjoy yourself,” Tony murmured. “You’ve earned this.”

“Thanks Tony,” Steve whispered, and they both knew that he didn’t just mean for the good wishes. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Tony told him. He didn’t think anything could ever compare to standing in Elphinstone Hall a few weeks ago, watching Steve graduate with an MA in Politics and Sociology. “I love you, kid.”

“Love you too.”

They stepped apart. Tony cleared his throat and noted that Steve’s eyes looked suspiciously shiny. 

“Alright, get out of here,” Tony ordered, nodding towards the security gates. “Gimme some peace and quiet for the first time in fifteen years.”

“How do you think I feel?” Steve retorted. “This is the first time I won’t have you watching over my shoulder. Freedom at last.”

“Yeah, well, enjoy it while you can,” Tony grinned.

Steve took a breath. “Okay. Bye Tony.”

“Bye Steve. See you in August.”

“Yeah, see you,” he echoed.

Tony stood and watched Steve approach the security gates, smiling and waving until Steve was out of sight. Then he let his face fall as the reality of losing his brother for an entire summer began to sink in.

* * *

_from People Magazine on June 29th 2000_

**Louisa and James close first official tour with a family portrait in Australian National Park**

Following a gruelling six week tour of Australia and New Zealand, the Princess Royal and the Duke of Edinburgh finished off their trip with a beautiful family portrait taken at Yanchep National Park near Perth yesterday. 

Louisa and James smiled in delight as they sat on the grass shaded from the summer sun by the surrounding trees and watched their infant daughters. The little Princesses posed with their parents while the cameras snapped away. Princess Alexandra, 2, showed interest in the wild birds who came to investigate the Royals and had to be deterred from chasing after them by her laughing parents. Meanwhile Princess Caroline, three months, sat happily in her father’s arm, her mouth wide as she gazed at the flora and fauna. 

Any critics still vocalising their displeasure at the Duke’s decision to take his daughters on the tour with them were surely silenced upon seeing these pictures. 

Eyebrows were raised when it was announced that Alexandra and Caroline would be joining Louisa and James on their first Royal Tour, since Caroline was only two months old when they arrived in Australia. It later came out that it was the Duke’s decision to take the girls, declaring that six weeks was too long to be separated from his daughters. 

However, the young princesses did not spend all of the trip with their parents, travelling ahead to the major cities Canberra, Sydney, Auckland, Christchurch, and finally Perth, while Louisa and James were engaged in official engagements. They never spent more than five days away from their children but apparently even that was too much for the young Duke. On a visit to a school in Brisbane, a young couple remarked to the Duke that he was lucky to have a few days reprieve from parenthood, however James replied, “I would spend all my time with them if I could. I miss them whenever they’re not around.” 

His delight at being reunited with his children was clear to see. As well as posing for the photographers, James took his daughters to see the koalas and was pictured wearing Caroline in a sling to enable him to hold Alexandra’s hand while they walked. 

The family boarded a plane this morning at Perth Airport to fly back to the UK, where they will join the rest of the Royal family onboard Britannia for the Royal Yacht’s final voyage before being decommissioned.

* * *

Standing on a beach in Scotland, the sun beating down on his bare shoulders, Bucky felt able to breathe for the first time in a long time. A few feet away, Sharon and her siblings were messing around in the shallows after Michael tossed Peggy into the water, and Carol and Peggy’s fiancé Daniel were watching safely out of the splash zone. Having his best friend around helped too.

“Daddy!” Alex cried, running up and smacking her palm against his hip. “Ag!”

“Tag?” he echoed, grinning at his little girl. 

“Ag!” Alex repeated, dancing away. 

“Does that mean I’m it? If I’m it, then I’m gonna get you,” Bucky warned, running after her. Alex squealed and raced across the beach. “I’m gonna get you…. I got you,” he cried, slinging his arm around her waist and scooping her into the air.

“Daddy, no!” she laughed.

“Daddy, yes,” Bucky grinned. He smacked a kiss against her cheek and wriggled his fingers against her side where he knew she was ticklish. Alex squirmed and kicked her legs, but she was giggling loudly and that, as much as anything, eased the pressure he’d felt on his chest ever since the accident. 

He watched Phillips leave the barbecue to join his children in the ocean, tossing them all into the water with a grin rarely seen upon his face.

“Daddy, drink,” Alex demanded suddenly, patting his arm. 

“Drink? Okay.” Bucky bent down, making sure she had both feet on the ground before releasing her. “Let’s go get you a drink.”

Alex started towards the picnic table then turned and grabbed Bucky’s hand, tugging him forward with surprising strength. They made their way up the beach towards the barbecue and the selection of tables, where Tony was covering the grill for Phillips. Bucky grinned at him; he’d been delighted when he discovered that Tony’s contract had been extended to include the holiday on _Britannia_ as well as Balmoral this year. Having another friendly face around made an already good trip even better. 

“Hey,” Tony greeted them. 

Bucky squeezed Alex’s hand. “Go on, sweetie. You gonna ask Tony?”

“What can I get for you, princess?” Tony asked, wiping his hands on a towel and crouching down in front of Alex.

“Juice, please,” Alex announced, except the please sounded more like peas than anything. 

God, Bucky loved this kid. Since Alex and Caroline’s births, he’d realised that what he was supposed to be: a father. He might not know anything else that he wanted to do - not that anything else was an option these days - but he knew that being a father was something he was supposed to do.

“Juice,” Tony nodded. “Alright. Coming right up, young lady.”

Tony straightened, picking a Fruit Shoot from the cool box and removing the plastic cap before handing it to Alex.

“Fank you,” Alex called.

“You’re very welcome, princess,” Tony chuckled. 

“Thanks, Tony,” Bucky smiled.

“No problem.”

With a hand on Alex’s shoulder, Bucky headed back down the beach, dropping onto the sand next to Carol to watch what had turned into a water fight between the Royal siblings, their father, and Daniel. Bucky leaned over to check that Caroline was still asleep in her pram, oblivious to the shrieks coming from her mother and aunt and uncles.

“Should we take bets on who’s going to win?” Carol asked.

“Oh, Phillips, definitely,” Bucky replied. He pulled Alex into his lap, lifting her arm to check if she needed more suncream. “Otherwise, Peggy. That girl is vicious and determined when she wants to be.”

“You look happy,” Carol commented. “It’s a good look on you, kid.” 

“I am happy,” Bucky realised. “When Sharon was pregnant with Caroline, we actually kinda became close. Ish. Close as we’ve ever been. And having the girls on tour with us helped. When I can focus on them, it’s easy to block out all the bad thoughts.”

“Good.” Carol squeezed his knee. “I like seeing you happy.”

“I like seeing you,” Bucky replied. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I know. Between your schedule - which is insane by the way - and me being on duty, there’s been too much time going past where I haven’t been able to see your ugly mug.”

“Tell me about it. Okay, come on, fill me in on everything that’s been happening in your life.”

“Well… You remember Maria?”

“You’re friend who you went through basic with?”

Carol nodded. “That’s her. Well…”

“No way. You two?” Bucky exclaimed.

“Yeah.”

“Wow. Nice.” He held up his hand and high-fived her. “Is this a serious thing or what?”

“Pretty serious,” she admitted. “We’re thinking about getting a place together.”

“Wow, look at you,” Bucky grinned.

“Okay, calm down, Barnes,” she rolled her eyes, and it was like they were back at St. Leonards, gossiping about the rest of their year. “It’s not like we can get married and Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is still a thing.”

“Yeah, but.”

“Yeah, I know,” Carol huffed.

“Are you blushing?”

“I will drown you in the ocean,” she warned. 

“No, you won’t,” he grinned. “If you were gonna get rid of me, you would’ve done it a long time ago.”

“Do you really want to ask that?” Carol asked, narrowing her eyes. “Go get us some snacks. I wanna see who wins this.”

Bucky laughed. He climbed to his feet, dusting the sand from his shorts before heading back up the beach towards Tony and the food. A scream from the water made him turn around and he laughed as Sharon and Peggy threw Michael into the waves, Sharon holding his arms and Peggy with his feet. Grinning to himself, he shook his head and continued up the beach.

As Bucky approached, Tony glanced up. He seemed to do a double take, then he swore, “Shit,” dropping the knife and waving his thumb in the air.

“You okay?” Bucky frowned, jogging the last few feet to the tables. 

“Yes. Yeah, I’m fine,” Tony winced, but there was a line of red blood blooming on his thumb. “Ah fuck.”

“Here.” Bucky grabbed a napkin and handed it to him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just a scratch” Tony assured him. There was something in his expression though, something funny. Like he’d seen something weird. Bucky eyed him carefully, with the practised eye of a father whose daughter had insisted she was fine before vomiting on his shoes not five minutes later. “I have worse than this on a regular basis,” Tony insisted. “Slap a band aid on it, and I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Positive,” Tony replied, his voice too-bright.

There was nothing else Bucky could do, short of insisting one of the PPOs organise a helicopter to take Tony to the nearest hospital. So he grabbed a bag of crisps and two bottles of soda for himself and Carol, giving Tony one last careful glance before heading back down the beach.

When he sat down next to Carol again, Bucky glanced over his shoulder and saw Tony leaning heavily against the table, his head hanging. But then Caroline started to whine in the pram and pulled his attention away.

* * *

Tony leaned his forehead against the railing, the metal cold against his skin, as he waited for Steve’s weekly phone call. Darkness had fallen but the stillness lingered into the night, and the air was clammy, making his t-shirt stick to his skin. Other than the engine noise, the night was silent, save for the occasional sea bird. Tony’d come up to the deck to get some privacy for his call with Steve.

Now here he was, waiting for the phone in his hand to ring, sitting on the edge of the upper deck, his legs stuck through the railing, with nothing to do while he waited but dwell upon the realisations he’d had that afternoon. 

When he closed his eyes, he could see Bucky on the beach that afternoon, his face alight as he played with his daughters. That moment had brought two realisations for Tony.

First, that Bucky wasn’t a kid any more.

And second, that Tony cared about him. And not the way he cared about Steve.

“You’re an idiot,” Tony said softly, rolling his forehead back and forth against the railing. “He’s married to a princess. You’re too late.”

But Bucky’s smile - bright and carefree - taunted him. Which was saying something, considering he’d been shirtless at the time and whatever issues he’d had with food while dealing with his PTSD hadn’t had an adverse effect on his physique, leaving him trim and muscled. But no, it wasn’t his body that kept distracting Tony, it was Bucky’s smile. 

God, it left him breathless, and distracted him so much that he’d ended up nicking his thumb with a knife. A rookie mistake. And then Bucky noticed and his concern was another nail in the coffin for Tony’s poor heart. 

And as if he needed any more ammunition, then there was Bucky’s adoring expression when Alex toddled up to Tony to ask for juice. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter in a vain attempt to dislodge the images from his brain. 

Because the worst part was how happy Bucky looked. It looked like he and Sharon were actually making strides in their relationship. And besides, they had two children together. So any chance Tony might’ve had with Bucky had gone out of the window when he encouraged him to give his then-fiancée a chance.

He whined, gently banging his head off of the metal railing until his phone began to ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey Tony,” Steve’s voice replied, sounding a million miles away. But Tony still smiled, relieved to hear his brother happy and in one piece. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know. Regretting my life choices and contemplating throwing myself into the North Atlantic.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly,” Tony sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “How are you? How’s the trip?”

“Um, amazing,” Steve replied and Tony frowned, because he could _hear_ Steve blushing from four thousand miles away. 

“Uh huh…”

“I, uh… I met someone,” Steve admitted shyly. “A guy.”

“Really?” Tony grinned, looping his arm around the railing. “What’s his name?”

“Sam.”

“Sam,” Tony echoed. “Tell me everything. No. Wait, no, don’t tell me everything. Tell me everything except for anything you wouldn’t want to know about me.”

Steve chuckled and God, he sounded so excited.

“Um, okay. He’s in the Air Force,” he began. “He’s a year older than me. He’s funny and makes bad jokes - seriously, they are the worst - and he’s smart and he’s really, really hot.”

“Yeah?” Tony grinned. 

“Yeah.”

Tony listened to the excitement in Steve’s voice as he told him all about Sam and how they met and the dates they’d been on since. It was the nervous anticipation that came with _I really like this person but I’m afraid of falling too fast too soon_. And it had been a long time since Tony’d felt that, he realised. 

“He sounds amazing,” Tony said when Steve paused to draw breath. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Um, there is one more thing,” Steve replied, his voice turning hesitant. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Um, I moved my flight. I have a few more weeks before my job starts and Sam has some leave, so I’m going to stick around here to spend as much time together as we can. Is that okay?”

“Steve, you’re a grown adult, you don’t need to ask my permission to spend time with your boyfriend,” Tony smiled, even though his heart was breaking a little. 

“I know but, well, we had plans-”

“They’ll keep,” Tony assured him. “Steve, if this guy makes you happy and treats you right, then hang on to him. I’ll be there when you get back. Stay in America.”

“You sure?”

“Positive,” Tony lied.

“So, why are you considering throwing yourself in the North Atlantic?” Steve asked.

“Uh…” Tony rubbed his forehead. “I have feelings for Bucky. Non-platonic feelings.”

“Oh. Wow. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Tony sighed. “I’m fine.”

“I mean, I don’t really believe that,” Steve replied. “Considering the whole throwing yourself in the North Atlantic thing.”

Tony laughed wetly. 

“I will be fine,” he corrected. 

“You sure?”

“I don’t have much choice, do I? He’s married and they actually look happy together. I can’t ruin that. So I have tonight to pine miserably and tomorrow… Tomorrow I’ll figure out how to live with it.”

“I’m sorry, Tony. Are you sure you don’t want me to come home?”

“Absolutely. Stay with your boy. Have fun. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m a big boy, I can pick up my broken heart on my own.”

“I do miss you, Tony,” Steve admitted. 

“I miss you too. What I don’t miss is your smelly socks stinking out the place.”

Steve laughed. He sounded so far away, that Tony’s heart ached.

“Listen, Tony, I gotta go. My change’s run out and I’m about to get cut off.”

“Okay. Be safe, have fun. Speak to you next week?”

“Yeah, speak to you then,” Steve promised. “Bye Tony.”

“Bye. Say hi to Hot Sam for me.”

“I will,” Steve laughed and then the line cut off, leaving Tony with only static on the line. 

He hung up, tapping his phone against the railing and staring into the darkness. 

Steve might have a job to come back to, but Tony wasn’t sure he would stick it out for long. Not the way he sounded when he was talking about this Sam. If they were both equally invested in the relationship, Tony could see Steve making the move back to America before long. After all, he’d always had the closer connection to their childhoods in the USA. Tony was happy to adopt Scotland as his home, but Steve still said Brooklyn whenever anyone asked where he was from. 

Tony exhaled.

“Okay, Stark,” he muttered. “One night of moping, and then you move on. Deal? Deal,” he nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual conversation Rhodey has heard too many times:  
> Steve: I’m an inch taller than you.  
> Tony: Like fuck you are!!!!


	5. Baked Raspberry & Bramble Trifle with Drambuie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I caught up on the latest chapter of a WIP I'm reading last night and the amazing fireinmywoods managed to put into words something I've been feeling and allowed me to paraphrase: Thank you to all the readers who are reading this as a "WIP". It's not really a WIP because it's finished and edited, so perhaps a better phrase would be this posting stage. Any reactions and musings you give me encourage me to keep working on the next project (because there is always a next project). Thank you for putting your faith in me and trusting me enough to keep coming back every week to see where this (or any) story goes. You're all amazing ❤️
> 
> And to my future readers, who are reading this once it's complete: thank you so much for reminding me that my fics don't disappear into oblivion once I finish posting. You are also amazing and I love you too ❤️
> 
> And thanks to fireinmywoods for putting into words what I didn't know I wanted to say and for being an incredible storyteller ❤️
> 
> And now, onto the story.

**AUGUST 2005**

Bucky slipped out of the bedroom and padded downstairs. He shoved his feet into a pair of trainers he’d left in the mud room earlier in the day then tugged on his jacket to ward off the light drizzle that had turned the entire estate grey for the past few days. Then he snuck out of the house, hurrying up the path, gravel crunching underfoot, towards the main house.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to sneak out when there were PPOs everywhere trying to stop people from sneaking in, but he’d been getting away with this for the past few years, since the first time he and Sharon were housed in Craigowan Lodge after both girls were born. He wasn’t going to let a little thing like that stop him from meeting Tony for their midnight snacks. By now they had a familiar routine and Bucky looked forward to the journey north every summer to catch up with Tony and just talk to someone who didn’t expect him to be anything other than himself. 

He knocked on the kitchen door; when it swung open, Tony was standing on the other side with an easy smile. 

“Hey you.”

“Hey yourself,” Bucky replied. He stepped inside, running a hand through his hair, hoping the drizzle hadn’t flattened it too much. “What is that?” he exclaimed, eyeing the dish in the middle of the table hungrily.

“Baked raspberry and bramble trifle with Drambuie.”

“Fuck yes,” Bucky declared, sliding into his seat. “That looks amazing.”

“Hopefully it tastes as good,” Tony smiled.

“Like anything you’ve ever made didn’t taste good,” Bucky scoffed. 

“The kedgeree from fourth year hospitality would disagree with you.”

Bucky chuckled, watching Tony pick up a knife and cut into the trifle. He could smell the booze coming from it and his mouth watered. He couldn’t lie; Tony’s company was only part of the reason why he loved their midnight snacks. The food was another part because Tony’s cooking was incredible. 

“Bon appetit,” Tony announced, passing Bucky a plate.

Bucky grinned, picking up his fork and digging in, making sure to get as much of the different components on the fork as possible. He stuck the loaded fork into his mouth, swallowing slowly, then closed his eyes and tipped his head back.

“Holy shit, that’s good,” he murmured. 

“Glad it meets your approval,” Tony grinned and stuck his fork into his own serving. “So how’s things?”

Bucky shrugged. “Fine.”

Tony arched an eyebrow and stared at him. 

“Well, at least I know you mean what you say about my food, because you are the worst liar I’ve ever met. Wanna try that again? How’s things?”

Bucky’s lips twitched. Somehow Tony always managed to see right through him and break down his barriers to get to the heart of the matter. 

“When Sharon was pregnant with Caroline, we grew close,” he explained. “And I thought… I thought this was the moment. You know? I mean, she’s beautiful and I like her but I didn’t, I don’t really know her. But I thought that was the moment. Where we could start making this work. Cause, you know, it’s not just love that makes a marriage, right? There’s a lot of other stuff.”

“Right,” Tony nodded.

“And I thought, well, we might not love each other but if we had that other stuff, we could be happy. That’s not crazy, is it?”

“No,” Tony shook his head. “Doesn’t sound crazy at all.”

“Right. And then Caroline was born and it was good. We were good. But then Sharon went on her first solo trip. And you know, that was okay. The girls were young and I’m happy to look after them. But then there was another trip. And another one. And another and another. And they’re getting longer. And I realised that I don’t think she wants to make this work. And I love Alex and Caroline, I love them more than I knew it possible to love anybody. And I like being a dad and raising them. It just, it would be nice if I could believe that Sharon wanted me for something more than a sperm donor and childcare.”

“That’s fair.”

“I wanna raise my kids,” Bucky continued, “But we were supposed to be doing this together. I was supposed to be part of a team. Only… here I am. No team. Just me.”

“For what it’s worth,” Tony said. “I think you’re doing an amazing job, even if it is just you.”

“Thanks,” Bucky smiled. “I feel like I’m always spilling my problems to you. You must be sick of it,” he half-joked. 

“What are friends for, if not to whine endlessly about your problems?” Tony grinned. 

The thought of being Tony’s friend warmed Bucky and fought away some of the loneliness he felt on what felt like an almost daily basis. He’s considered Tony a friend from their first interaction, but he was always worried that Tony saw their chats as an extension of his job. 

“Doesn’t help that the press keeps speculating that she’s cheating on me,” Bucky continued. “I mean, I know she’s not. I might not know my wife but I know she ain’t cheating on me. Eight years and she’s still a stranger to me. I’m just really fucking lonely.”

“I can’t fix your marriage, but I can give you more trifle?”

“Yes please. It’s delicious.”

“I’m glad,” Tony smiled. 

Bucky groaned, tipping his head back. “It’s just, I always thought the stories and stereotypes of married couples not wanting to spend time together were, you know, bullshit. And now here I am, eight years into my own marriage, and my wife doesn’t want to spend time with me.”

“Do you want to spend time with her?”

“Not really.” Bucky twisted his mouth to the side, stabbing the trifle with his fork. “Enough about my shitty marriage, what’s new in your life?”

“Well.” Tony ducked his head. “Actually, I… I got married.”

Bucky blinked.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah.” Tony nodded. Then he reached beneath his whites and pulled out a chain, a gold ring swaying back and forth in the middle of it. “Her name’s Pepper.”

“Wow,” Bucky exclaimed. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Tony grinned.

Bucky couldn’t put a name on it, but for some reason Tony being married made him feel weird. It was a good weird, mostly, but also kind of not? 

“Tell me all about her,” he said, pushing the feeling, whatever it was, aside. 

“We worked together, at the hotel I worked at the last few years when I wasn’t working here,” Tony explained. “She was part of a graduate training scheme for management - she’s amazing, going to run the world one day if we’re lucky. Then last year, we started dating. It was a whirlwind romance, and then we got married at Gretna Green in October.”

“Wow. Wow, congratulations. I’m really happy for you.”

“She completed me,” Tony shrugged. “We’re planning on opening our own restaurant one day.”

“A culinary world power couple?”

“Exactly,” Tony laughed. “Pepper’s going to run the business side - which is great, because I hate the business side - and I’m going to run the culinary side.”

“I hope I get an invite to your opening night,” Bucky joked.

“Obviously. I’ve been testing out my recipes on you for the last nine years. But that’s way down the line right now. In the meantime, we’re trying for a baby.”

“A baby?” Bucky echoed.

“Yeah, you make it look so easy we decided we wanted one of our own.”

Bucky snorted. “I don’t know what gave you the impression this is easy. Or that I know what I’m doing.”

“Then you are a very gifted faker,” Tony grinned. 

“How’s your brother? Bucky asked. “Still in America?”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “His boyfriend is deployed right now, but his enlistment is up soon so they’re considering a move to London.”

“That would be good. Closer to you.”

“I won’t be happy unless he’s still living down the hall from me, but yeah,” Tony replied. “At least we’d be in the same time zone. He’s been doing a lot of work with NGOs. That’s his thing. Helping people.”

“You must be proud.”

“More than I can ever say.” 

“Does this mean you and, uh, Pepper are planning on making a move down south?” Bucky asked and it wasn’t him being selfish and wanting to see Tony next year. It wasn’t. He was showing an interest in his friend’s life. 

And maybe eventually he could convince himself that was true. 

“Not yet,” Tony shook his head. “Pepper’s still on her graduate programme and I’m happy here. I’ve spent most of my life in Aberdeen, so it’s home really. And if we’re going to have a kid, I think I’d rather have them up here. I want to give them a better childhood than I had. That’s why kids first, then the business. My dad was never around when I was growing up, he was always working. I don’t want to do that to my kid.”

“Yeah, no, makes sense,” Bucky nodded. After all, he was the one who’d made the decision to take the girls on most of the royal tours he’d been on. He made his schedule around their lives, rather than fitting them in where he could. His daughters would always be his priority.

He picked up his glass. 

“Well, here’s to your marriage, congratulations, and hopefully to your impending fatherhood,” he announced. “Slàinte.”

Tony tapped their glasses together. 

“Cheers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slàinte is Gaelic for cheers and is pronounced slanj-a.
> 
> [Baked Raspberry & Bramble Trifle with Drambuie](https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/baked-raspberry-bramble-trifle-drambuie)

**Author's Note:**

> If you need more WI royalty AU shenanigans until next week, I have another one that is already complete [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026584/chapters/57807979).
> 
> Find me on Tumblr [here](https://weethreequarter.tumblr.com).


End file.
